


Pats

by JaneyBaney



Category: Alexander Hamilton - Ron Chernow, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/M, Gen, Humor, Other, Sickfic, first fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 05:17:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14784257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneyBaney/pseuds/JaneyBaney
Summary: Hamliza sickfic, fluffy- Hamilton is ill agsin this winter, etc. A small sweet interaction. Tried to be historically accurate as I could with dialogue.





	Pats

The cold air was irritating it. She could tell by his labored breathing. Raspy, as though the air was scraping his lungs.

 

The chill of the room shocked her when she came in, that she nearly dropped the tray of medicine. Setting it down, and lightly stepping to the window, the wind felt as though it might at well be blowing ice into the room. She managed to shut it quietly, then stepped around their bed to the next one.

How he was able to sleep with the chill, she knew not. But he  _ was _ sleeping and that was enough.

Every winter he became ill with some malady that after all these years she could predict how the following weeks would proceed.

He’d try to press on for an extra day or two, then he’d reveal he was feeling unwell. Usually by that time her, and the doctor would marvel he had managed to get from bed at all before then.

He’d work at intervals from bed, until he could not. Then he’d rest, but not sleep. The children knew to be quiet when Papa was unwell, and would mostly do just that. The Doctor would come routinely, and after the main passings of winter had passed he’s rise again, and return to work. Speedily making up for all that had been neglected during his illness.

It was a strange dance they had come to have, that though routine by now, never put her to peace. Though what kind of world would it be if we became use to seeing our loved ones ill or bedridden. How unhappy a world like that would be.

She looked back at him, the wheezing seemed so loud without the blow of the wind now, but the room even without a fire seem so warm already.

She had managed to not interrupt his slumber, which was quite a feat on its own. He once sat up in bed because he heard one of the children sneeze some doors down. The again she had as well.*

Eliza put a hand to his forehead, before gently putting her lips to his temple. Poor man.

Now a fire, to bring real warmth to the room.Once the fire had started, she heard him stir behind her. 

Now awake and sitting up, he was rubbing his eyes. Seeing her he smiled, before started to cough once again.

“Oh I didn't mean to wake you.” She said coming to his side.

His voice was raspy in the midst of the coughing but still full of mirth nonetheless, “If that were so you wouldn't have kissed me, my Charmer.”

“That is what woke you?” She asked astounded.

He nodded, starting to cough again, reaching for the handkerchief by the bed. 

“I'm surprised the cold did not. I am surprised you slept at all.”

He gave her a look that, because of the handkerchief, she couldn't quite tell what it meant.

It was dark now. Yes he had been sleeping for some hours. He said he felt quite well actually, quite well. If she would help him out of bed they could sit by the fire together.

But she declined; no, no, he better stay in bed until he was completely recovered.

But he insisted, nearly outright begged like one of their children wanting to go out.

He was also fully aware how pitiful he looked when he was ill. Eliza was aware he was aware. And so she admitted that it may do him do good to get up and out of bed a little.

He had improved, she could see as he stood and donned his dressing gown*. He still coughed as they made their way to the fire, but she had to admit it didn't sound as rough as it had the day before. Or even this morning.

“You should know I wouldn't dare lie to my Angel.” He smiled. 

No not the chairs, why not the floor? It was surely more warm close to the fire and afterall was their tradition wasn't it? 

“Well,” She said, “I suppose who am I to deny a sick man his request?” She went to fetch the tray and set it  between them.

He chuckled, softly, not wanting to provoke more coughing.

“The doctor brought more medicine.”

“Did he remember to shake his rattle over it?”

“Alexander.” 

“I kidd.”

“Mmhm.” She put a spoon full of the chalky powder in the bowl and began to stir.

It didn't smell pleasant, no, even from where he was his face grimaced in a distasteful way, as he watched her stir.

He asked about the children, about the household and how it faired while he languished in bed. He was anxious to return to work, Eliza knew. She assured him he’d be soon back in the land of the living, as long as he continued to rest and improve.

The last augmented with the tap of the spoon at the rim of the bowl after the stirring was done.

He looked at it as though it held various bugs rather than a remedy to his ailment.

“Alexander…”

“Yes yes, I don't need proding.” He said, taking the bowl. He looked at it a moment longer, before taking it to his lips and downing the concoction in one go.

Even Eliza’s face scrunched up a bit as she saw him drink it.

“Perhaps I should have brought something to cover the taste.” She said, as he put the bowel on the tray, and took the cup of water.

“I doubt it would have helped.” He remarked, and began to drink.

Although the idea suddenly made it occur to her it had been sometime since he had eaten. How could that slip her mind?

“What's the matter?” He asked, seeing her face fall.

“You haven't eaten since early this morning, I should have brought something up.”

“Oh Darling, it's no-”

“Well I had just been in the kitchen, even just a roll-”

“Betsy.” He laughed a little, “I'm not hungry.”

“Well still, you shouldn't go so long without something,” She began to get up, “I'll return quickly, I'll just fetch something light.”

“Betsy, please don't go, I am fine.” His voice wavered and shorted out, holding back a cough, then added, “Relatively. Do not worry. I'm not one of the little ones, I will not starve.” He smiled, hand on her arm til she sat back down, and trailed it down to her hand.

“I will bring you something once you are back in bed.” She said, “You must have something.”

“If you wish it, but only do not leave just yet. I will get far more sustenance by your company than by a loaf of bread or a tart.” 

She sighed, but stayed. She knew he wasn't helpless. She knew he had become self-reliant from a young age, and could care for himself even if she and the children were absent while he was in such a state. And he had before. 

But all the more reason for him to let someone look after him now. But he held her hand so firmly. His palms were no longer clammy.

She smiled and he raised her hand to his lips, and returned the kiss she had granted him.

They sat and talked a few moments longer. He started to cough once more, and she stood to put the tray up, then helped him to his feet and insisted he lay down. Alexander agreed, feeling fatigued all of a sudden.

Just as he removed the dressing gown the coughing started again, but this time more harshly than before. Her hand rest on his back as he reached for the bed and sat down 

“I'm fine-” He coughed again, still more harder than he had since he had woken up. His face turning red from it all. Eliza went for the glass of water left half full on the tray.

He took it thankfully, and drank the rest. That seemed to settle his lungs. He exhaled and remarked he may have doomed his recovery by claiming to be better.

Eliza couldn’t help but chuckle at that, and he did as well.

As she did she sat next to him, a hand on his back, and then reached for him, her arms open. He gladly went into her embrace.

“My Little Nurse.” He said fondly.

“Always.” She smiled, rubbing his back, and then giving it two firm and affectionate pats. 

At the end of the second one, to their equal startelement, there came an eructation. A belch.Quite suddenly. Not as loud as it was a surprise to them both, they froze.

Eliza was the first to start a soft giggle, that turned into a full on laugh. 

“Do you feel better?” She teased between chuckles, breaking the embrace.

He was laughing with her but also turning red across the bridge of his nose, “Yes-I mean, no! I mean.” He covered his mouth embarrassed.

“No no, I'll-” Eliza let one more giggle escape her lips. “I'll stop.” She couldn't help it, that had been adorable. She kissed his cheek.

“Pardon me.”

“Oh no, it always helped our babies to feel better.” 

At this he truly laughed, and remarked perhaps he did need as much looking after. 

“Well then fear not.” Pulling the covers back, he began to lay down. She couldn't help tease, “I'm right here, Little One.”

He started to blush a new, though he was still smiling at her as he lowered his head into the pillows.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> *I like to imagine Hamilton was a light sleeper especially during the war when you had to be ready to go in a moment which meant jumping up in the middle of the night. And Eliza after becoming a mom developed her Mom Powers the kid where you can hear a baby whine two houses over.
> 
> *Dressing gown, dressing robe, housecoat, house gown, Bayan, I couldn't find an exact name, or remember. If someone wants to correct me pls do.


End file.
